


How You Want (A Girl) When You Got (Me)?

by HunterByDayWhovianByNight



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (had no idea that was a tag!), Alternate Universe- Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Black Panther (2018) Post-Credits Scene, Bucky Barnes-centric, Consensual Infidelity, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Heavy Angst, M/M, POV Bucky Barnes, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Wakanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 00:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15108371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterByDayWhovianByNight/pseuds/HunterByDayWhovianByNight
Summary: “Nothing in this world was more difficult than love.” —Gabriel García MarquezBucky doesn’t know what hurts more: Steve leaving every week or knowing Steve leaves him for something more exciting every week.





	How You Want (A Girl) When You Got (Me)?

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to take this story a different route than my usual Stucky ones. I wanted to explore infidelity, which is something that I’ve really strayed away from in many of my works. I also wrote in the first person, which I don’t believe I’ve done since my original Cloak of Invisibility fic! I took “The Weekend” by SZA and warped it to fit this story, which is how it got the title it does. Please enjoy!
> 
> ~Hunter

Steve claims he had obligations to the world, to himself, and that’s why he goes out on these Nomad missions. I knew that Steve had his whole hero complex and that’s why he felt the need to go save the world because it’s what he’s always done, but that changed when I started falling (harder) for him and he fell for me; couldn’t he see that I needed him here while I healed? He takes Natasha instead of me since I’m still not cleared to go out of the country; Shuri doesn’t think it would be right at this moment in time, and my gut agrees with her. I crave to go on missions with Steve and Natasha because the way they act when they come back is so sickeningly sweet because all they do is reminisce and tell their stupid inside jokes. I want that. It hurts to know that Steve would rather go on these missions than be here with me. What does Natasha have that I don’t? I have safety and security and stability. She has death and uncertainty.

When it’s just Steve and I, I forget that he’s just been with Natasha in the dirt and sweat and blood for days on end. When he’s here in my bed every Friday and Saturday night, it’s just him and I. He doesn’t mention them. He says on and on that he doesn’t want to leave the hut, that he only wants what we have forever. I want it, too; I’ve wanted his touch and kiss for so long that finally getting it made me mad for him. He started coming to see me immediately after missions, not even reporting to T’Challa right away, because he felt the same way for me. I could tell that after a month or so.

I know Steve loves me. He tells me so every single time he sees me. I love him, too, in a way; I love the way he makes me feel and makes me come apart every time I pull him into the hut with me and onto my cot. I’m selfish; I want him. I don’t want to share him with the outside world. I love him with a dangerous abandon, knowing that my selfishness could hurt me later. It’s just that when Steve says he wishes _this_ didn’t have to end every time he visits me, I agree with him and hold him just the slightest bit tighter. 

When Steve is gone, I’m a wreck. He never tells me where he goes and all I can hope is that he comes back alive and intact. He’s all I can think of, and while part of me wishes I could join him on his missions, a larger part of me wants to keep him here and away from danger. In my bed, he’s safe and cared for. Sometimes, when he’s late coming back from missions I feel the bike rise up in my throat; how dare he not be back now. How dare he cheat my precious time with him; I only see him these two days, I want him for my allotted time. Natasha has him so much more than I; I’m so desperate for him by the end of the week, I don’t want him out of my sight.

It hurts less, I guess, when Steve is able to contact me and say he’ll be late because then I get to hear his voice. It’s better than nothing, but I still want him. I don’t know why, but I get so envious of Natasha. There’s a strange connection between her and Steve that I don’t fully trust. Sometimes they look at each other and I feel a stronger twinge of jealousy than when I think about them being together all week long. I get jealous, so unhealthily jealous, but then I remember that I’m the one he comes home to. He comes back to Wakanda, back to me, because he knows that Natasha will never love him or want him in the way I do. Steve and I are the ones with the bond that stood the test of time. He’s the one who loves me in a way that he could never love Natasha.

Steve is mine; not by right, no, but by need. By want. But I know that in some kind of way, he’s Natasha’s also. He’s her partner, her second, her right hand. During the week, they work together and do what Steve loves best: saving the world. I know they fuck, too, when the nights get too long and too lonely. I didn’t need to ask for confirmation; I could see it in their eyes, their gait. But when Steve comes to me, it’s for what he needs. He needs me to fuck, to make love to. I give him that. I don’t deny him because I need it, too. I need the attention and touch and the way he just purely needs me. Natasha could never do this to him. He just goes with Natasha because he has to; he doesn’t have to come see me every weekend at the ends of his missions, but he does. And I know in my heart it’s because he needs me.

When Natasha knows that I know about her and Steve, she begins to drop Steve off at my hut. It’s ceremonial the way we do it. My time with Steve starts then when she gently nudges him through my doorway. It’s friendly, almost, the passing off of our shared man. We share a knowing look; she’s taken care of him for the week, gave him his daily dose of life and adventure and heroics and I’ll give him what he comes home to. I’ll give him a reason to fight and to succeed. Steve doesn’t know that we have this unspoken arrangement. He doesn’t have to.

My mind, though, can’t shake the possibility of Steve never going on another mission because he’s suddenly decided that he can’t get enough of me. I want him for so much longer than these two damn days; I want to be on missions with him even though I know that’s not possible. I want him to stay here, with me, even more. I want him to come to my door one Friday morning when he comes back from a mission and say that he wants me, that he’ll never go on another mission ever again, that he wants to live the simple life and heal and stop trying to save this broken world, that he wants to leave behind Natasha. I would accept him in a heartbeat. I want him to stay with me so badly. I wouldn’t let him leave my bed for days afterwards, just keep him there between my legs and  above me. If I had him here with me, we would make love or fuck or whatever he wants every morning and night, like how we do when he comes back from missions. Maybe we would never leave the hut and die blissfully entangled in each other’s limbs.

Yet, every week, he leaves. Steve leaves my hut Sunday mornings with a kiss on my forehead and a squeeze of my hand. I sit up in bed and cling tightly to his forearm as he tries to leave my room, and he stops. His blond hair is falling in his eyes and the early morning light makes his skin more golden and luminous. I tell him to come home soon, to be on time; I say I miss him already. Steve smiles. He says he hopes he’ll be back, to say a prayer for him. I smile and let go of his arm.

And, the next week, like clockwork, Steve comes back. I never doubted for a second that he wouldn’t.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy, it's Kendall (soprano_tenor14) doing Hunter a life saving favor once again. This is what I shall leave you with this time, dear readers: "Let's say a kidnepper throws you in the back of a truck. DON'T PAANIC. Once you get your bearings, find the carpet that covers the taillight. P e el back the carpet, make a fist, punch the taillight out the back of the car, thus creating a hole in the back of the aUtoMObiLe. Then, stick your little haaand out and waAve to oncoming motorists to let them know that something hinky is going on."
> 
> me, in ya brain: kudos/comment on this fic  
> you: but why  
> me, in ya brain: you gotta
> 
> ~Hunter


End file.
